Queenless - 1
by King of the Queen of the Who
Summary: Once a servant to her queen now a servant to no one. After a short stint as a slave, a young girl follows her hooded companion. Without a Queen to guide her, will she survive?
1. Damaged Goods

I hope you won't be too displeased with my infantile scrawls. I don't usually do this kind of thing (never really). But hey! It just started to flow, might as well write it down.

Buckets of respect go to the Queen of the Red Skittle, you will undoubtedly find similarities to her writings here.

* * *

The caravan moved monotonously in the sweltering heat, stopping only occasionally to resupply water. One foot was forced in front of the other, lead by a group of slavers, slowly drudging over endless dunes towards an unknown goal.

The brutal twin suns that chased each other across the clear blue sky harbored no favorites and shown no mercy. A day ago the shoulders of the shirtless man before her had begun to peal. The occasional wind would blow little white flakes of dead skin off of his back. Now his skin boiled.

The dress she wore had long sleeve and protected her from the most of it. In addition it was white, and reflected most of the sun. Nevertheless, the heat was unsupportable, and sent streams of sweat pouring down her face. The conditions under which they were kept were deplorable. Little water was distributed and it was barely enough to keep them from falling over. No rest was allowed.

Her captors, themselves wrapped in cloth to protect from wind, sun, and sand, rode the strangest two legged creatures she had ever seen. A species of bird perhaps, but with fur instead of feathers. They smelled as bad as their handlers, but were light, sturdy, and above all fast. There were perhaps only three slavers for the few hundred of them. But with the speed of their animals they easily patrolled their massive line of merchandise as it marched toward the horizon.

She assumed there were at least three hundred slaves. She had never had the opportunity to see the caravan in its entirety. It only ever went in a straight line, and the shoulders of the captive before her obstructed her view. Pathetic she found it, for an individual of such stature to be so complacent and resigned. But she bit her lip at the thought, knowing she was in no position compare.

The bird, she decided to call it one, had another utility. It could kick sideways, and would do so at the discretion of its rider. An event that she learned was to be at all costs avoided.

An eternity passed before the caravan arrived at an atoll. Stopping shortly at the entrance, there was an exchange between one of the slavers and the uniformed guard that stood by the gate. The guard made a sign with his hand and the caravan shuffled inside.

The entryway opened up to a sprawling market. Inside the main walls countless humans bustled about buying, selling, and haggling. Merchants announced their offers, ushering potential customers to their stands. She understood none of the words.

The women, deemed to fragile -and valuable- to make the journey walking under the sun, rode carriages. They had been moved to the front of the caravan, and were now unloaded and paraded to a sort of stage. There wealthy businessmen, and families made their selection. The women were no doubt expected to perform a number of domestic tasks. From cooking and cleaning to babysitting. She pitied them.

The true severity of her situation became apparent only as they passed through an archway and entered another part of the market. Here less valuable slaves were bought and sold like yard from a real. Customers purchased in meters, the slaves were counted, money was exchanged, and they went their separate ways dragging their purchase behind them. Now she envied the women she previously pitied, and once more regretted having assaulted the slaver, an act that earned her the punishment of having been lumped in with the men.

The slaves sold here were farmhands. They would be worked to the bone until they died, and she knew she would only last a year if she was lucky. She had to find escape. She tried to look around without arousing suspicion, but found her situation was hopeless. Her hands were bound too tightly. There was nothing she could do, and everywhere she looked she found earthen walls. The merchants carried no weapons. Presumably it was illegal to do so within the confines of the market walls.

Before she knew it, she too had been sold. The man who lead her now was a disgusting creature. A fat, stubby ogre of a man that whistled as he walked, chewed on something vile and occasionally spat on the ground. When he looked at his purchase he smiled in a way the girl hardly found appropriate.

She and a few select slaves were brought to an area adjacent to one of the exits of the market. She eyed the sandstone arch longingly, and seethed with an anger that was stifled only by the hunger that counterbalanced it. She would find a way. No. She had to find a way.

She and the five others were tied to poles scattered alongside the path that passed through the archway. Here humans of all shapes, colors and sizes streamed in and out of the market. She assumed the ogres intention was to resell the slaves he had just purchased. She didn't understand, surely there was little profit to be gained in this way. The ogre had made a mistake however, he had tied her to the pole. Yes tied. And knots could be undone even with both hands bound at the wrist. As soon as he turned his back she quickly undid the long end of the rope and bolted for the exit. Her heart jumped in her chest at the thought of freedom, and she wondered why the other slaves didn't simply run away as well. They had, after all, been bound in the same way that she was. "pah" she thought. They probably just didn't have the guts to do the same.

The world opened up in-front of her as she shot through the archway, then swung. swung? yes swung. Then tilted. And finally came crashing into her face. A fierce pain ran over her scalp as what felt like fingernails dug into her scalp. She turned, flailed, and attempted to defend herself.

One of the market guards had caught her by the hair, and she realized now, why no one had attempted to escape. She was able to get off only a single good punch to something that felt like metal before the ogre arrived an offered a well placed kick to her side. He half carried, half dragged her, still gasping for air, back inside and tied her again to an empty pole. The pain in her side was so strong she couldn't stand and practically hung from the stake. The guard chuckled as the ogre, huffing and puffing, tossed him a coin. She spat blood.

"If death didn't count" she thought. The only way to leave this market was to be bought or sold.


	2. Impulse Purchase

One of the twin suns dipped below the horizon, and the remaining star that careened across they sky cast long eerie shadows across the barren landscape. A quiet wisp had slowly built into a breeze and prepared to usher in a chilly desert night. Dust covered his cloak, and he shook off the most of it before passing through the archway, patting at the tougher baked on layers that stuck to his pant legs. The last world he had visited was experiencing winter, and the snow that had stuck to his pants had melted, baking into a crust, minutes of his passing through the gate.

This was the third world he had been to in the past 24 hours, and the only that showed promise. The last two had been recently ravaged by the Wraith. Its remaining inhabitants too busy picking up the bits and pieces of what remained of their civilization to trade.

Within the walls of the marketplace ruled a cacophony of sounds the likes of which only humans could possibly be responsible for. A particularly unsightly fellow stood on a crate to make up for his lack in height, and announced his - wares. Slaves not much taller than himself, if one counted the crate and didn't ask them to stand particularly upright.

This world too would soon fall to the Wraith. It stood in the direct path of one of the Hives he had been tracking. The men and women who now so busy buying and selling each other would ultimately serve a single purpose. Humerus, he found it. For food to advertise itself. He could not resist chuckling to himself and the idea of cattle that sold itself.

"You there sir!" A merchant shook his arm at him. Dammit! He had delayed, and now had become the merchants mark. The merchant came down from his crate, and his lack in height became that much more obvious. "In need of a servant? A maid perhaps? I've got the freshest batch of this world!" he explained, throwing his hands out to either side.

The hooded traveller eyed the merchandise, dishevelled malnourished and gloomy creatures, something not even a Wraith could stomach feeding upon. The merchant however, aside from his grotesque appearance, was another story.

"How much for this one?" He asked squeezing the salesman's shoulder.

"Hahaha.. ha" The man laughed awkwardly at what he perceived as humour. and pried the masked man's iron grip from his shoulder. "You jest sir. The wares are this way" He shook his cane in the direction of some of his slaves. "Why not have a look at my... hand picked selection?"

The cloaked figure grunted in disapproval. Turning to walk away, he caught a glimpse of a slave girl that eyed him, and he turned around as she quickly averted her gaze.

Her appearance left much to be desired. A mess of hair hung in knots over her face, hiding the eyes she maintained fixed towards the floor. Sweat mixed with the dirt that had gotten caught in her hair soaked the only garment she wore, a tattered, dirt colored rag, that resembled children's clothes he remembered having seen somewhere. She was a thin and bony one with little fight left in her.

"Here we give discounts for payments in scabilion." The merchant implored jumping in his clients path, grabbing him by the elbow of his cloak and attempting to guide him.

Scabilion; the name of the currency used by the allies and members of the torus trading ring. A group of worlds towards the center of the galaxy, renown for their trade in - dubious merchandise. A pity the cloaked figure possessed only the more common gold coin.

The man laughed in an even more awkward way when he found himself unable to move his prospect client, and instead adopted a more passive tactic. Stepping aside, he bowed respectfully, and ushering him forward with a gesture of his hand. The cloaked figure let out a long sigh and moved forward.

"Has this one been giving you trouble?" he inquired. Pointing at the girls raw knuckles.

"ahh" again with the awkwardness. Was it just him, or was this man easy to read? "Tripped on the way here sir." The man lied, his eyes widening as he said 'here'. This was the man's tell no doubt. All bad liars had one. Surely the merchant could convince no one but himself with such blatant lies. Either this, or he had no need to. "But a scratch." he continued "Nothing that a cream can't heal."

How one scrapes bare all four knuckles on the back of one hand while falling was beyond comprehension to the traveller. "Bit of a clumsy 'n." the merchant added retroactively "But she's got a pretty face..."

The Wraith could neither deny nor confirm the man's proclamation, for he could not see her face. Instead he studied the girl's hunched figure, and took the opportunity to fold his arms.

The merchant had dealt with many strange travellers in the past, but none that matched the stoic yet commanding presence of this one. The deep hood he wore bothered him little. While some traders wore headgear to conceal their identities, many did so simply to guard against the sun and sand.

He was curious to know the man's nationality, but it needn't matter, there was no need for faces here. In this market the only faces that mattered were those stamped on the backside of coins. While unnecessary, he thought, a smile facilitated a deal, and the merchant plastered one across his face.

Growing impatient the merchant grabbed the girl by the chin with his stubby hands and raised it to show his customer.

"See" he said "Not all bad."

The girl hissed, sending bits of blood flying, and exposing a repulsive, bloody set of teeth as she pulled away. The merchant was not at all pleased.

The struggle that ensued was a comical fray embellished with muffled curses and rebellious hissing. The girl snapped at the merchants fingers, who quickly retracted them. She took flight, but gained distance only by the length of the cord that bound her, and was consequently flung around as it stretching tout.

The merchant threw a few careless curses into the air, untied the rope from the pole and attempted to real in his product-gone-rogue. She resisted, wincing in pain as the rope dug into her wrists. Other slaves, not knowing how to react, cowered behind their respective poles.

The girl quickly wrapped the rope around a nearby post, thereby creating enough friction to oppose the stubby little merchant.

The trick worked, and the more the merchant pulled on the rope, the less it would budge. Frustrated he gave slack and approached, ready to put the girl back in line. The girl, not much smaller than him, took the opportunity to step forward and close the gap between them. The merchant caught by surprise tumbled backwards to avoid a kick. A kick that instead connected with the hooded figures gloved hand. In the fray, he had entered through her blind spot, and intervened. In his other hand he held the girls rope. A tug reset the her balance, and she reluctantly stumbled into him.

He threw a bag of coins at the merchant, whose facial expression changed first from hate, to joy, then to disappointment.

"It's not enough." He scoffed as he weighed the bag in his hand.

"Half price for damaged goods." The hood scoffed at the merchant. "You would be wise to accept this offer, unless you believe you can find another who will purchase her."

The merchant grudgingly agreed.

The hooded figure made his way, dragging the reluctant slave-girl behind him. Under an archway that separated two parts of the market he gave the rope a curt tug, and ordered her to follow in Wraith. He had been observant enough to know that the girl would understand the word. No Wraith worshiper, that could curse with such violent fluency, would fail to comprehend such a simple command.

What bothered him however, was to find a worshiper amongst the commoners' slaves. It was unheard of for Wraith to buy or sell humans, they consumed them. Wraith had other ways of disposing of those who fell out of 'favor'. Perhaps she was sent by her keeper to scout populated worlds, uncommon but not unheard of. Perhaps she had simply gotten mixed up in something she was not supposed to.


	3. Shoplifter

The hooded man that lead her had a long deliberate stride, and she needed more steps than he to cover the same distance.

She no longer resisted now. He spoke Wraith. And that was enough to, at least subconsciously, demand obedience. They were already outside city limits before it dawned upon her, that it was possible that he did not really speak Wraith, but only knew the one word she heard him say underneath the sandstone archway. She clicked her tongue at her own stupidity.

They had spent the remainder of the evening making purchases at the market. The hooded figure purchased everything from food, to tools, and things she didn't even know the names of. Naturally she was made to carry it. Well half of it anyway. He had her carry his rucksack. It had clips on the shoulder straps, which allowed him to put it on her back without untying her hands. He himself carried a simpler bag, stuffed with a few of the more fragile items he had bought.

A sigh escaped her. First a slave, and now also a mule. She loather her existence and searched for possible ways of escape, but realized that she was too exhausted, tired and above all too hungry to entertain any more thoughts of freedom. She observed instead her captor whose back shot up like a wall in front of her. He wore heavy black boots, and a dark long coat with hood, that swung from side to side as he walked. Gloves occluded his hands.

Her stomach grumbled with hunger, and reminded her all to physically, that she hadn't eaten a proper meal in days.

If only she wasn't bound, she thought. Reaching behind her she could just barely get a finger under the flap of the backpack. She could feel the apples through the cloth bag they were in, but with her hands tied the way they were, found it impossible to undo the cord that held it shut. Frustrated she dropped her hands in front of her.

"I'm hungry." she implored her captor. It was worth a try, but the man ignored her. Evidently he couldn't understand her.  
She fiddled with her ropes once more... A futile waste of time.

She contemplated simply falling over in protest, but realized, that the man, with his massive build, was liable to drag her to wherever he was going. Instead she first tugged half-hearted at the rope and when the man ignored her again, stopped in protest, planting her feet in the sand. The rope tightened.

He gave it a hearty tug, and sent her colliding with his backside. She let out a yelp in surprise, but swallowed it midway. His strength was inhuman.

So much for that! There was more underneath that cloak than just his back she thought, rubbing her forehead. Leather armer no-doubt.

Her focus moved to his bag, where a stitch had come undone. She remembered the order in which the cloaked man had packed his purchases into the bag. They had just bought dried meat and apples that he had then put in his bag. Before leaving the market some glass ornaments peaked her captors interest. He haggled with the street vendor who didn't seem to want to part with the strange thing. Her captor eventually succeeded. Dismantling the wind-chime, if that's what it was, and carefully wrapping the parts in foil before placing them in his bag. The apples, in the process, got moved to the backpack. It meant however that in the bag in-front of her. Just behind the loose stitch there were loose strips of dried meat... and 'wind-chime' parts.

Her mouth filled with drool as she came up with a plan. She timed her movements tightly. With every step of her captor she took one also, then another to make up for the difference in stride, each time picking at the loose stitching with her index finger. It required damn near all the concentration she could muster at the moment, but the stitches were rough, wide and unravelled with ease. After only two stitches she could see a piece of meat through the opening. To her luck it was oriented in just the right way and now all she had to do was stealthily extract it. She waited patiently for a gust of wind, an uneven part in the road, anything that could hide the movement.

A gust of wind passed by, kicking up the dust and sand. Squinting through her left eye, she pulled out the sliver of meat as the sand buffeted the both of them. She almost dropped it before reaching her mouth. Success had never tasted so good, and she savoured every bite. She'd finish the meat, and then inform her captor of the tear in his bag. He wouldn't notice one missing piece, and her attentiveness would garner some form of kindness from him.

She wondered were they were going. There were only sand dunes as far as she could see. There had been little else since she got to this god-forsaken world. That, mud huts and smelly merchants. She observed a dune absent-mindedly as she chewed on the meat. It had a juiciness to it, but required a little work to separate and chew.

She wasn't paying much attention, and collided with the hooded man, who had stopped abruptly. With a high pitched "Oooff" she fell into the hot sand, still holding the unfinished sliver of meat in her hands. Her forehead told her once more, that his back was harder than it should be.

They had stopped in-front of a gate. He pressed on the controls, and turned as it dialled.

He noticed the piece of meat, she noticed that he noticed, and quickly stuffed it in her face. For a moment they stood eyeing each other, and the dialling sequence ended, sending the puddle plooming from gate.

She pointed awkwardly to the rip in the bag which he had swung from his shoulder.

Her plan backfired.

"Thief" he shunned her matter of factually. So he knew more than one word. It stung the air. And hurt. Not because it was true, but because of the way he said it. It left her feeling guilty, regretting ever having swiped the dried meat in the first place. Had he hit her, berated her, or otherwise punished her, she could have ignored it. But this way left her in the wrong.  
He pulled her to her feet by the backpack and they stepped through the gate.

She chewed furiously, biting her lip in the process, and finished off the remainder of the meat.

"I told him I was hungry." she muttered to herself. "I still am" she added the though.

"I too feel hunger." He growled over his shoulder, in a way that sent shivers down her spine. His hearing was exceptional, and his Wraith impeccable. She began to suspect the unthinkable. Perhaps underneath the hood. Behind the cloak... No. Impossible! she thought. Wraith don't buy slaves. They had herds to 'cull'. They don't buy 'food'. She shook the thought from her mind. But what was he then? A worshipper?

Yes. No-doubt underneath that hood there was a Wraith worshipping human. Surely he would bring her to his keeper perhaps even his queen. There she could report anything she knew, and offer her services. Among other Wraith, gaining approval from the queen was her only chance of survival.


	4. Care Tag

He took her to a small isolated cabin halfway up the side of a nearby mountain. The cabin had a glass window, albeit cracked, on the same side as the door they came in through. A fireplace and rocking chair on the opposite side. A wooden bench stood under the window with a table in front of it. He took the backpack off of her back and she practically fell onto the bench. She was so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open, and didn't pay much attention to the hooded figure as he stoked the fireplace. A wave of sleep swept over her, and she welcomed it. Whoever this man was, friend or foe, it didn't matter anymore. She was too tired to handle either case. Too tired to tell what part of her body hurt most.

Her head throbbed as she woke, and she shifted her body as she begged to fall asleep once more. With every movement her body ached, as if to reprimand her for the abuse she had allowed it to suffer. Her hands were no longer tied, and she ran her fingers through the furs that were laid out on the bench. Strange, she thought. They felt oddly familiar, and she opened her eyes to confirm.

Fear ran up her spine as she shot upright, ignoring the pain that threatened to split her brain into two equally frightened halves. However familiar, the yellow and blue speckled furs that glistened in the dim light of the oil lamp were out of place here. She knew of only one other place she'd seen the furs; The hive. Her eyes met with a luminescent stare from across the room. Seeing her wake he moved into the light and took position on a stool near the door. He wore the same cloak as before, but now with the hood pulled back, revealing the face of a man eater. The face of a Wraith. She averted her eyes in respect. But only so much that she could still see if he were to move.

It was impolite amongst the Wraith to stare, but it could also be seen as a weakness to look away entirely. Only fearful humans did that.

Her heart breather a sigh of relief as the Wraith stroked his goatee, a sign that he meant her no immediate harm. She felt the weight of his gaze as he studied her.

"young one" he cocked his head to one side inquisitively. "what is you name?" He asked.

Reluctantly she told him. Placing emphasis on the fact that it was the Queen of her hive that had personally given it to her. He chuckled in response, she did not understand why.

"where did you get that?" he asked pointing to the choker she wore.

"The Queen of my hive gave it to me." she told him. He wanted to know more. "She said it would keep me safe if I always wore it."

She didn't know exactly what the Queen had meant when she said it, but never second guessed her orders. She just knew Wraith looked at her differently than they did other servants, this Wraith was no exception, and that was enough to justify never taking it off.

He extended his hand, silently ordering her to remove it. She fidgeted uncomfortably, but complied. Realizing only as she was unable, that she'd never taken it off since the Queen had placed it on her neck, and further, that she didn't know how.

"I" she stammered feebly "I don't know how to take it off."

The Wraith reached around her neck and undid the clasp. She watched his boney hands and long nails as they slid past and tried not to shiver at the touch of his cold hands. He examined the choker in the light of the lamp that stood on the table. It was black and no wider than his thumb, with the insignia of her hive embossed on one side.

Never having seen it except in a mirror, she studied it as much as he did. Carefully he turned it over in his hand. The back of the clasp seemed to interest him greatly. She did not dare to ask why, feeling he might find it imprudent. After all, it was rude for a human to inquire.

He leaned back in thought and again played with his facial hair. The choker dangled precariously between two fingers, his wrist draped over his knee.

She wished he'd give it back to her now. The thought of some day appearing before the queen without it made her anxious. She felt a knot grow in her stomach when she imagined he might not intend to let her keep it. She wretched going against her Queens wishes. Even when she wasn't around. But she didn't know what was the greater sin; to anger the Wraith before her, or the Queen she hadn't seen in days.

Finally she snatched at the choker, so surprised he had let her catch it, that she had to look into her hand to confirm she actually had. She quickly placed it around her neck. Finding comfort in the familiar sensation of the band against her skin. Only to feel horrified as it slid off of her neck, and drop into her lap. She tried again making sure to push the end of the choker into the clasp, but It wouldn't stay.

She looked to the Wraith in desperation, remembering how her Queen had instructed her NEVER to take it of.

The devilish, toothy smile of a demon the likes of which only a Wraith was capable of told her everything. He had planned this! He was in complete control. The smile widened as he read her mind, and a wry laugh rolled out from behind his jagged teeth that froze her soul.


	5. Untaped Value

His base of operations was a cave in the mountainous region of a sparsely populated planet on the edge of the galaxy. There he had been hoarding technology ancient, Wraith and otherwise alike. His collection even sported a set of Geni generators. But as of yet, nothing that could fly.

The objects the apple saleswoman had so skilfully crafted into a mobile for her grandson, were not just coloured pieces of glass as she had thought. But ancient data crystals. He did not tell her this of course and instead had asked for her to sell it to him. She had asked him sarcastically whether it was the young one that was expecting, pointing at the sulking slave-girl. He had replied stating that the only thing the wretch was capable of carrying was the plague, that she desperately needed a bath, and that he contemplated hanging her under a waterfall for a few days. The well endowed saleswoman had laughed at what she thought was a joke.

He then lied about how his only daughter had recently given birth to a baby girl and that he wanted to celebrate the occasion. Adding that he'd very much like the thing if she were willing to part with it for a few coins. The saleswoman looked displeased, and expressed her concern regarding the colour of the mobile. She seemed to want to indicate that blue was hardly appropriate, and red or pink would be better fitting for a baby girl.

How mundane he thought. He had said nothing in response, had simply placed double the aforementioned coin on the counter, and proceeded to stash the device.

Incredible how verbose these humans were. And how quickly money stilled them. He normally enjoyed, albeit in measure, conversations with humans. At least when they weren't as vulgarly unintelligent as this one. Double the amount of coin should be more than enough to cover for his rudeness.

By the looks of it the crystals came from an ancient ships navigations module. He hoped to glean some information from them. Information that he would undoubtedly need. He needed to know which worlds were inhabited, and which were not. Which gates resided in space. Which gates were safe to access. His memory only went so far, and the worlds had changed so much. It made him doubt whether he had ever actually been to any of them.

If he was to continue outsmarting the humans, and Wraith for that matter, he would need to know which civilizations were most technologically advanced. If he could manage to activate the crystals he hoped to gain at least the location of where the ship had last sailed.

Accessing them presented its own challenges however. The crystals like most ancient technology only reacted with the ancient gene, and he for obvious reasons didn't have it. There was a risk even that his handling the cores could render them unusable. He would need to carefully reverse engineer their interface. A task that would take several months.

The girl, if she behaved herself well enough, would be his assistant. She could take care of some of the more mundane tasks as he worked. Again he found it intriguing to find a Wraith worshiper so far away from the nearest hive. She understood only Wraith, but spoke it with such fluency. A fact he found most disturbing. It was not uncommon for Wraith to keep servants aboard a hive, to accomplish menial tasks, for study, entertainment, but the Wraith tongue was reserved exclusively for use by the Wraith.

However obediently she had followed him, head held high in defiance. Something was different about this one. She needed two steps for every one of his. Had arrived thoroughly exhausted and now lay sleeping on his bench, twitching ever so slightly at what was in no doubt a nightmare. He chuckled to himself and wondered if perhaps he was the subject of it. If anything, teasing her would be entertaining.

He breathed slowly and thought to himself as he stroked his chin. He recognized the insignia inscribed on the accessory the girl wore. It belonged to a hive from before his time. He had never met the Queen, but knew her as well cultured, tolerant for a Wraith and intelligent. He knew of rumours of the demise of the Queen, but nothing he could yet confirm.

The girl believed the accessory she wore would protect her. She was right about that. Necklaces, earrings and similar tokens that bore the hives mark were used to indicate ownership of a particularly valuable or loyal servant. The insignia meant the wearer was allowed some minor privileges, and was not to be immediately fed upon. Indeed if she had not been wearing it at the market, she would never have caught his eye. Fate would have brought her elsewhere. He had given it back to her. Knowing very well she would never be able to close the clasp. It was of a special kind, and required a trick to open and close. Easily done, if one knew how. Her bewildered expression had been priceless. She had fallen asleep with her hands close to her neck touching the dark band as if to ensure it did not disappear in her sleep.


	6. Unboxing

She was rudely awakened by the Wraith in the morning. He shook her awake, pulled her to her feet and shoved her out of the house. He muttered something about pediculosis capitus, and promptly sent the bench, complete with furs, flying out after her. She had tripped and fallen on her way out, and only barely managed to roll out of the way of the furry hardwood projectile.

The Wraith stormed out of the house with a terribly large and sharp looking knife in his hand. She scrambled desperately at the sight of the blade, but could only delay the inevitable. The Wraith cuffed her by the neck with a growl and lead her to a nearby stream, practically throwing her in it.

Her side had overnight turned into a single large colourful bruise and stung as it touched the water. The stream originated from higher up the mountain, and the water it carried down was cold and icy.

The Wraith waded into the stream after her with his hands angled at his side as did a Wraith on the hunt.  
The poor girl, stuck between fear and admiration, raised her arms and cowered behind them in what was more of a grotesquely inadequate protest than a legitimate defence.

He swatted them away with the back of his hand and brought the knife upon her, sawing off a large chunk of dirty knotted hair.

She clutched the hem of her dress nervously and watched her hair float by, as the Wraith lopped off more and more. By the time he was satisfied with the amount of hair he had removed she had begun shivering slightly in the cold. He pulled a bar of soap from his pocket and applied it judiciously to what little hair remained.

He grunted approvingly when her head foamed with suds, an pulled up her dress. Which she immediately jerked back down. "I" she stammered. "can do the rest myself!" Even if bought and sold twice in one day, her dignity she would maintain.

The Wraith passed her the bar of soap and crossed his arms.  
She stood motionless, begging him to go away.  
Noncomplient, he tilted his head to one side.

Soap ran into her eye, and she squealed as she knelt and bent over in the shallow stream, furiously splashed water at her face. Realizing all to late that she was holding a bar of soap.

"Turn around!" she hissed, quickly switching from the commanding mode she had inadvertently slipped into to a more polite one. The Wraith chuckled, amused, and waded back to the bank.

With her good eye she watched the Wraith disappear into the forest as he walked back the path they had come, before removing the dress herself, and hanging it on the branch of one of the trees that grew close to shore.

Shaking the cold from her, she turned to herself. Washed out her eye once more for good measure, taking care to use the hand not handling soap. And began scrubbing the cached dirt off of her skin.

She washed quickly. In part because she had no idea when the Wraith would return, surely he would, but mostly because the water was so damn cold.

He hand passed over the choker she wore. The Wraith had finally given it back to her, but not before forcing her to play a game of minds. He ordered her to resist, while he invaded her consciousness. A common game the Wraith played to gauge their strengths. Or sometimes simply out of amusement. His telepathic presence was oppressive, much like that of her Queen. And with it he probed the corners of her mind. She, failed quickly and often. "Again" he would command and she would prepare for another round. The game was exhausting and she fell asleep soon after he had finally placed the choker back on her neck.

Besides the rag of a dress, it was her only keepsake of her life at the hive. The closest thing she had to a home. She knew she didn't entirely belong there, an she knew the Wraith never really accepted her, but they were the closest thing to a family she had ever had.

To some extent she even missed them. The uncertainty of her current situation frustrated her, and she missed the security of the hive that came with its hierarchical structure. In the hive everyone had his place, and even if it wasn't much, she also had hers. There at least she knew who she was.

This Wraith left her only with questions. Who was his Queen? Where was her hive? What was his rank. What was his purpose. And finally what was she to be in relation to him?

She fingered the clasp. Surely the Queen would forgive her for the small trespass. It had no lever, no button, and confirmed it must not be something she was meant to remove.

The Wraith returned so stealthily that she didn't notice, and when she did quickly hid behind the rag she at one time called a dress. He chuckled and she hissed in response.

He passed her a pair of black cargo pants, used, chafed at the knees, not quite her size but dry and clean. She put them on hastily, and a dark shirt followed.

"You..." he said. "can buy the rest yourself." tossing her a coin purse as he walked away.

She didn't understand. "You'll let me go alone?" She asked. The Wraith didn't stop "Aren't you afraid I'll run off?" she dared add.  
He stopped this time and turned. "If you do not wish to be considered game. you will return before dark." She knew what that meant. To be hunted by the Wraith was not a pleasant experience. Wraith always catch their prey. "take the east path into the valley. The inhabitants are peaceful here, so do not cause any trouble."


	7. Priceless

She walked barefoot for a good twenty minutes before coming within sight of the village, little wooded cabins similar to the Wraith's scattered across the hillside with smoke rising from their chimneys.

The Wraith had failed to mention where the market was, and she began to wonder if there even was one in the small village.

She opened the coin purse he had given her, a small leather bag, and discovered that it only contained a single coin. The denomination was a mystery to her but surely the cheap metal valued little. Without an adequate form of payment the choice of establishment mattered little, and she stumbled into the first building she came across. A slightly larger one with a sign hanging in front.

The establishment proved to be a small tavern, but the hour was evidently neither close to breakfast, lunch nor dinner, and its many tables lay empty. A woman stood behind the counter and cleaned silverware, she smiled and said something, presumably a greeting.

The girl smiled back but approached the counter cautiously. She didn't know quite what to do and so did the first thing that came to mind; place the coin on the counter.

The woman smiled, and pushed a curious village girl who had been observing her all to obviously, out from behind the counter.

The girl introduced herself saying something as she pointed at herself, presumably her name. Before extending her right hand. There was no mystery regarding the introduction, but the extended hand baffled the taverns new visitor, who, not knowing quite what to do with it, instead bowed respectfully.

Sari, as she had introduced herself, then did something so bewildering and incomprehensible for the unsuspecting traveller that she at first didn't know how to interpret the attack, and much less could understand who would be affected by it. Quickly she pried off the hands that Sari had thrown around her, and pointed at her own bare feet. ``Buy'' she said in common, a word she had picked up at the slave market. Sari giggled, said something the girl couldn't understand, and, grabbing her by the hand, skipped out of the tavern.

Sari lead her to another building, a shoe store. There she spoke with the shopkeeper. More words she couldn't understand.

The shopkeeper showed her some shoes. She chose a pair of black sturdy looking boots, wished to inquire about the price, but didn't know how.

She held them up to the shopkeeper instead. ``How much to buy these'' she wanted to say. The shopkeeper misunderstood and offered her a choice of white or black socks instead. She choose a pair and offered the shopkeeper the coin. But he refused payment and sent her on her way. Sari once again grabbed her hand and took her to another shop.

At a tanners she found a leather belt to fit the pants she'd been constantly pulling up with her hands, and from a seamstress she got underwear. Black of course. Otherwise her outfit wouldn't match.

Each time she would try to pay with the coin and each time no one would accept it.

Back at the tavern a couple that bore striking resemblance to the girl treated her to a meal. She no longer bothered trying to pay and just accepted their hospitality.

The sun hung low on the horizon when she bid the couple fare well and took her leave. She went back using the same winding path and arrived before dark just as the Wraith had requested, all the while milling over the days strange occurrences.

Upon arriving at the cabin, she noticed the symbol engraved in the door. She had been to tired to notice it the day before, and it all began to make sense to her. It bore the same symbol as the coin.

While it was possible, it was also irrational, that one would transcribe the symbol from the coin to the door. It was much more likely that the coin was just as useful as the door, and that she had looked like idiot trying to use it as a form of payment. She began to suspect that the Wraith had tricked her, and that he enjoyed making her play the fool. In the heat of the moment, and obviously in a state beside herself, she desire what any Wraith would. She desired revenge.

She kicked the door open with all her might, deriving satisfaction from both the excellent fit of her new boots and in how the the old cabin shook. That sneaky Wraith, she thought, treating her like an earthworm. She would let him know just what she thought of him.

She barged into the room, looking for him, but he wasn't there. She barged around the back of the cabin in search, but found only the furs draped over a stump to dry. Furious she circled around the other way, hissing as she was unable to find what she was looking for. Back inside she felt like breaking something and snatched at the clay plate that sat on the hearth. Thinking twice before smashing it across the edge of the table, she recalled once having dropped the Queens favorite goblet aboard the hive, and still remembered all too vividly the punishment that the act had incurred. She quickly replaced the plate atop the hearth. ``Better to wait'' she found herself saying aloud. The Wraith would come to her soon enough. She would wait for him.

When the Wraith didn't show as the sun dipped bellow the horizon she became increasingly impatient and looked for something with which to occupy her time. She contemplated sweeping out the place but quickly discarded the idea. Reasoning that if the ungrateful bug head needed anything of her, he would have to demand it explicitly from now on. Instead she brought in the furs from outside. And took interest in a set of throwing knives that hung on a nail behind the cabin. A piece of plank that looked like it had no further use served as a target, and she hung it up by the door.

Sitting on the soft furs she practiced her throw.

When the Wraith finally did return, she granted him no attention, and sent a dagger flying past his face as he opened the door.

``You have a problem young one?'' He scowled sarcastically raising an eyebrow. She shot him a dangerous look, and sent her last dagger at the board before folding her arms. For one, because she entertained the thought of his flesh under her fingernails and wanted to protect herself from the idea, and secondly, because with the Wraith finally in front of her the confidence to do anything more had deserted her. He collected the daggers and sat on the stool on the other side of the table.

The girl's hand shot at him demanding a dagger, which he supplied, handle side into her palm. She threw it, and demanded another.

``Do you by chance enjoy having your mind read?'' he asked stabbing the remaining daggers into the table. Short hair suited her he thought, especially when she was angry, and he regretted not having taken more time by the river to produce a more... symmetrical cut. He had never seen a pouting human female, and entertained his curiosity. He found the range of emotions humans displayed in captivity Limited.

``The people...'' she began jarring a dagger out of the table and sending it at the board.

``I provide them with the occasional medical aid in exchange for privacy.'' he filled in for her. ``I presume they have been kind to you?'' A dagger thwacked the board ``And you to them?'' he cocked his head.

``They don't know you're...''

``a Wraith?'' he filled in the gap.

She relieved the table of another dart.

``Did you tell them?'' he breathed with a grin, knowing that she would never dare. She didn't answer, and a smile crept onto his face.

``They believe me to be an old wizard of some sort'' He continued. ``What moves them to accept the hood escapes me'' A chuckle rolled out from behind his jagged teeth.

``Perhaps I have inadvertently embodied the subject of their folklore.''

The girl, finding she had spent her daggers, retrieved them and sat back down.

``Have you no Queen?'' she finally asked the question that had been on her mind the entire time.

The Wraith grunted disapprovingly at the question and refused to answer, but it told her what she had suspected. He had none.

The only thing that left a Wraith without a Queen was his death or hers, and she wondered why he had not sought allegiance with another hive, but swallowed the question.


	8. Hidden Feature

She had come to call the Wraith pryden, a title equivalent of healer or caretaker in Wraith. Perhaps guardian but only if you stretched its meaning. She had chosen the term because it fit, and because she absolutely refused any term that could possibly imply ownership or subordination of some kind. The Wraith didn't much care what she called him as long as she used honorifics. He spoke using a polite but imperative and demanding form, and had grown accustomed to referring to her with diminutives. A fact that annoyed her greatly. Worse however was when she managed to get on his nerves, or failed to complete a task successfully. Then he would drop the diminutives and polite speech altogether, and move to a form of speech that, albeit free of expletives, was not more enjoyable.

Occasionally he would command her to follow him to the gate. This meant that they would be going off world to procure things, and that she was to help carry them. She didn't mind particularly, because it meant she got to see other worlds. The problem was that his lab was hidden high in the mountains, and that getting there meant hiking. She reasoned however, that the relative peacefulness and liberties she was allowed deserved at least some effort, and tried her best to do as she was told.

She slept in the loft of the cabin that was layered with additional furs, while the Wraith, if he slept at all, preferred the bench under the window. The Wraith had tasked her with learning the common tongue, and she visited the village whenever allowed to spend time with Sari the village girl. With her she studied the language the humans used, and was routinely forced to endure the increasingly uncomfortable forms of skin-ship that they shared. She did not particularly enjoy learning the strange tongue that she found poor in words and unimaginative, but was obliged to do so under direct order of the Wraith. When the Wraith told you to learn something, it was always for your benefit to do so. Sooner or later you would be charged with a task that required the skill, and failure was then twofold.

Once she had been tasked with arranging a series of control crystals on an old circuit board. A task that took her several tries. She had complained stating that it would be much simpler if he assisted her. He had scowled at her, stating that the time she required was not an issue. The fact that she repeatedly failed to correctly identify the proper crystal to use however, was. When she had finally managed to arranged the crystals properly, and the device sprang to life in a bust of colour and sound, he had been as surprised as she afraid of the thing.

The Wraith would disappear for days at a time, and when he returned would see to the villagers and the various ailments of which they complained. He cured coughs, mended bones and occasionally stitched up cuts. Sari's parents had told of how their daughter had been deathly ill with a high fever when the healer first arrived, which explained the overwhelming hospitality she received as his aid.

As if from bouts of madness the Wraith would scrawl archaic phrases or complicated formulas on the walls of the cave and stand in-front of them for days at a time. Perhaps he had gone mad. Without a queen to give them purpose, all Wraith went mad sooner or later. And she had quickly learned that on such days he was better left undisturbed.

On rare occasions the Wraith would go off world without requiring her assistance, presumably to feed. It was on such days that he would charge her with the task of looking after his things. And she would spend the time either at the mouth of the cave or other suitable vantage point, tossing daggers. Such days were uneventful and she enjoyed the time to herself.

This day however her throwing game was interrupted as Wraith darts fell upon the village from above. For a moment she stood motionless and observed the chaos as it unfolded before her with a strange curiosity she felt ashamed of. Then fell into panic at the thought of what the villagers and Sari were no doubt experiencing, and then at the possibility of she herself being found. The Wraith had failed to specify what she was to do in case of such and event, and she figured that remaining hidden was the best course of action.

She heard hectic human voices approaching and quickly darted off into the cave and hid bellow an equipment table covered in a large tarp that could aid to conceal her.

"Wow!" a gruff voice exclaimed as he entered the cave and more footsteps followed. "McKay, Come look at this."

"Amazing. It's like a Frankin lab in here."

"We don't have time for this Rodney!"

"Look at this, a life signs detector! And this! I bet I know what's under here."

"Mkay!"

A squeal erupted from the startled man as he lifted the tarp and saw the girl, who having been discovered lept from her hiding place and dashed for the exit of the cave.

She half ran half slid on the sandy ground as she shot out of the cave, only to have her way blocked by a man and a long haired woman.  
They weren't from the village, their clothes were all wrong. She felt trapped and drew her knives in protest. The shaking chubby one and gruff man approached, weapons raised, from within the cave. Behind her the cliff dropped to certain and unpleasant death.

The screams and whine of dart engines echoed from the valley as, for a moment, they stood observing each other.

The man in charge took it upon himself to start conversation. "Eh.. You mind telling us where you got those pants!?" a question she was not expecting, but understood immediately when she noticed that they all wore ones of similar kind. There was nothing she could say. Instead she hissed for good measure and took a step back.

"Easy! Easy!" The one in charge raised his free hand without lowering his weapon.

"We wont hurt you." The woman, with her weapon hanging at her side, showed her her hands and stated calmly. The girl hissed, spun to discourage the man approaching her right, and rocks broke from beneath her feat as she tiptoed on the edged of the cliff.

"Give her space, Ronon" The one in charge barked, motioning to the man who had approached her.

"We can help you" the woman pleaded and offered her hand. The girl reasoned otherwise and threw her knife with a single flick of her wrist as she broke for the tree line.

Just as she passed the first set of trees she was swept off of her feet by something that rammed her sideways. Trees slanted diagonally as she was hurled in a direction she couldn't determine and slid across the ground. The one they called Ronon threw himself on her and pinned her to the floor. She got off a kick to the mans groin before the long haired one rushed to her side and plunged a needle into her thigh. She struggled against the man that pinned her, and regretted not having had a better grip on the other knife that now lay out of her reach.

"How long for that stuff to be effective." A husky high pitched voice sputtered in pain. "Only a few seconds.. I will see to Sheppard." The long haired one ran off to look after her companion, and the knife that had no doubt met its mark. The girl seized the opportunity and pulled a hidden knife from her boot. Ronon opened his guard to avoid a vicious slash, and she slid out from underneath him. But not before he threw himself forward and caught her by the foot. Her vision began to wobble as she brought the knife down on the hand that retained her, and clamoured to her feet. The drug showed its effect on her balance and she ran toward one of the many counter indicative directions she could distinguish as forward.

The sound of human screams and Wraith darts mingled in the air, and her vision; a blurry mess of tilting horizons spun as she lost the feeling of the earth beneath her.

A tumbling feeling accompanied the oddly eery view of earth and sky as it mixed before her and her consciousness simply refused to function.

She came to in what appeared to be an abandoned hospital. Broken glass and defunct equipment lay strewn about in a chaotic way. The Wraith towered over her and probed and poked at a deep puncture in her foot.

She groaned as she registered the pain in her side and swore to avenge her suffering spleen as the Wraith took notice of her.

"You have stabbed yourself in your own foot" He growled disapprovingly, and she sat up remembering how disoriented she had been.

"What..." she gasped, her head still feeling mushy inside.

"A sedative." he replied as he sensed her thoughts.

Her foot was a bloody mess with a slit in the center that matched the size of her blade. The Wraith cleaned the wound, but she felt nothing from it, nor from the entire limb for that matter, and suspected that the entire appendage had been thoroughly doped by the Wraiths handy-work. He was unnaturally good at these kind of things.

"Did I?"

"Fall off a cliff?" He said, remembering how he had managed to swoop up the girl just second before impact. "Yes." he growled disapprovingly.

"And your lab?" she asked.

"I will start anew elsewhere." He didn't look up at her.

"The dart is sufficient exchange" He spoke of the Wraith dart behind him. A triangularly shaped single person ship he had managed to swipe during the chaos of the raid, and had parked in the same room. The half of the building they were in had many floors. And the other half had collapsed exposing the rooms to the open air. The resulting window offered an unparalleled vista into the world of an advanced civilization that had met its doom at the hands of something slightly more powerful and now breathed the sum of its accomplishments into the air in the form of rust and concrete dust.

"The culling?" she coughed, prying her tongue from the dry roof of her mouth.

"It was not of my doing." He said as he doused her foot with a foul smelling liquid.

"Those others?"

"Lanteans no doubt... Perhaps its related. Perhaps not."

She thought of the villagers that had been so kind to her and of Sari the girl with which she had spent a great deal of enjoyable time, and a bitter taste filled her mouth as she imagined what had become of them.

"I will" She began as she formulated an adequate curse "drive a cruiser down their thoughts!" She demanded and reached for her bloody foot.

"Patience..." He hissed swatting at the hand "They are much to powerful."

"What kind of pathetic Wraith are you?!" She insulted him, her mind and body still under the effects of myriad of drugs she had taken, regretting it immediately when he dropped his tools and grabbed her with his free hand.

The Wraith with a fell swoop of his hand sent her colliding with the adjacent wall. And with an equal speed brought his feeding hand down upon her. When he removed his hand she was a shrivelled, weak, and older version of herself.

"I" she began desperately wanting to apologize, but unable to find the words that could make good on the trespass. The Wraith gave her no time to search for them, and instead once more brought his feeding hand down upon her.

If there had been any doubt before, she thought. She knew now, that he was Wraith in every way that could possibly matter.


	9. Return Policy

Her foot had healed under the effects of his hand, and in general left her feeling stronger than she had ever been before.

First he had taken a great many years from her as her foot bled profusely. Then he had returned them and a few more. The gash had disappeared as if it had never been there.

She had observed but never herself received the gift of life, and it was nothing like what she had imagined.

It left her entire body feeling energized and feverish. She could swear her temperature had risen a few degrees, and It gave her the energy required to take solid deliberate steps down the hallway of the Wraith cruiser she now found herself traversing, as she feigned the confidence she didn't have.

The Wraith had once again swept her up in the dart, and when she came to, she had found herself aboard the ship. Another Wraith escorted the two of them. The nuances in the structure of the walls, and the placement of the doors revealed their destination, and a odd nervousness dried her mouth when she realized they would be granted an audience with the hive's Queen.

She occupied her throne and leaned to one side as she conversed with a Wraith, no doubt her second. A servant served her a drink.

"State your purpose, Wraith." She demanded before taking a sip from the stemmed glass she held in her hand.

"Atlantis" The Wraith hissed without pause, and the Queen immediately displayed interest.

The Wraith stepped forward into a respectful bow, and continued.

"Through a series of unforeseen circumstances I have come into possession of a bit of information, and a few valuable... items."

"Continue"

"I have devised a plan to capture one of their ships."

The Queen breathed in boredom "Amongst the hive there are a number who possess remnants of the ancient technology. Have you nothing of substance."

"Remnants" he reiterated "Defunct no doubt"

The Wraith grinned at the girl.

"This one possesses the gene." He said as he pushed her forward. The girl's eyes darted wildly, appalled that he would reveal such a secret so willingly. The Queen merely raised an eyebrow and eyed her curiously.

"With her help you can activate the ship and extract the most recently dialled gates. The dialling process leaves an impression on the DHD that fades with time. The strong-"

"I am aware of the devices function, Wraith" She interrupted him rudely. "It would betray the ancient cities gate address."

Indeed the gate dialled most often would leave the strongest impression. Of course with the many other addresses dialed several hundred would be extracted. But once extracted it was a simple process of trial and error before Atlantis was found. It would require some time, but then, time was not something of short supply. The Queen certainly liked the idea, but it was nothing she would admit blatantly.

"And you come to me... because?" She inquired. "Your Queen would surely provide a much better audience."  
The Wraith gave no response and left her to her own devices. "She is no more." the Queen surmised aloud with a devilish grin.

"Unfortunate" She hissed after a moment of thought. "Traveling the vast expanse alone must have been daunting. What... has given you purpose?"

"Ah..." the Wraith began "When your lifespan is comparable to that of the universe, purpose indeed becomes a subject worthy of deliberation..."

The Queen was amused, it showed in the way she set down her glass. "You speak poetically Wraith... But I will not be satisfied until you give me your name."

The Wraith didn't answer.

"You hesitate poet!" The Queen rose. "Am I not worthy to hear it?" She circled the Wraith mockingly, who remained mute.

"You would be understanding to allow that I withhold until after you have kept your end of the bargain." He growled finally.

The Queen took her place on the throne and eyed him carefully. This Wraith defied her. To withhold his name showed distrust, but also ascribed it higher value. The Wraith was confident, with a deliberate stride, and she could understand his unwillingness to distribute his name carelessly.

"Very well." She began "You will tell me the details your plan."

The Wraith detailed his plan, and to the girl's dismay she found herself an integral part of it. She was to lure the Lanteans to the Queens cruiser. The Wraith would hibernate, and ultimately she was to awaken them. Springing the trap.

The Queen found the plan agreeable but thought it risky to send her entire crew into hibernation. The Wraith argued that it was a necessary risk if they planned to thwart the Lantean scanners, and offered that she position the cruiser in front of a space gate. Just out of reach of their scanners and hibernate only upon observing their coming. Additionally she devised a series of countermeasures to alleviate the risk of being, indeed stuck in hibernation while the Lanteans wandered the halls of her ship.

Tripwires and proximity sensors would be used to override a scheduled reawakening and wake all the Wraith manually. In addition the order of reawakening would be hard coded to ensure that the queen was first to awaken.

Should she fail to bring the Lanteans to them in a predetermined time the plan would be aborted. Any other irregularities such as equipment failures would wake her second in command. Still the Queen was apprehensive. The plan relied heavily on the girl to do her job. An unknown element in the queen's eyes, and above all a... human. The Wraith vouched for her loyalty, a fact that consoled the Queen little.

Finally the Queen demanded time to deliberate with her next in command and she sent them by escort of a pair of armed guards to the guest quarters.

Once the membrane doors slid closed behind them she had promised herself to barrage the Wraith with an unimaginable number of questions she wanted answers for, but the way he stood leached of his energy and drained of the confidence she had come so accustomed to convinced her otherwise. Instead she sat on the bed and hugged her legs as she tried to be as obedient as possible.

"I saved a few of your things" He said dropping a backpack on the bed beside her.

"My knives?" She asked feeling vulnerable without them.

"Better" He grunted handing her a small cloth bundle.

The daggers were almost identical to the steel ones in shape, but were made out of another material. They were mat white in colour, and a little lighter. They were not the solution to her problems, but she found that handling them calmed her, and they put her mind off of the more depressing things.

The cruiser rumbled as it entered hyperspace, a sign that the Queen had accepted his plan and was positioning her ship near a suitable gate. Later when she had stepped through the gate the Queen would relocate to a gate the floated in space. A gate the address to which the Wraith now drilled her to memorize. When he was satisfied that she could reproduce the address at a future time he told her to sleep for the time being, but she found it impossible to find a position in which she was comfortable.

A short time after the ship exited hyperspace they were summoned once again to the Queen's throne room. Her second had personally come to escort them.

"My crew and I have come to find your plan acceptable, Wraith." The Queen scowled.

"My queen" Her second interjected "Everything is ready"

"Very well. Bring the girl's things." She commanded and her pryden left the room, bowing respectfully as he left. Leaving the girl with the stark realization that she was alone with the Queen. An event she found rare, and under the current circumstances, absolutely terrifying.

"The Wraith's plan is sound." She began, "But I am worried with regards to your... capabilities." The Queen hissed as she approached her.

"I will do my best."

"Sure you will..." She agreed passing a cold finger across her cheek. "But tell me child. How do you plan on fooling the Lanteans? They are a troublesome and slippery bunch, but not stupid."

Not having given it much thought earlier, the girl's mind now raced to find a suitable solution. She chewed her lip in thought as the Queen slid around her. Indeed it was difficult to say. She knew little of the Lanteans, and that part of the plan was a black hole her pryden had made little mention of. The Queen placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and brought her chin over the other.

"You do have a plan do you not?" The Queen whispered into her ear in a way she herself would have described as deliciously chilling, but the girl, so preoccupied with the nature of her problem, was never able to properly classify. The Queens telekinetic presence tickled at her consciousness and the girl was for once grateful for the mental training she had received but at the time detested.

"I will tell them I killed a Queen" The thought came out un-muted, scaring herself upon hearing it, and she bit her cheek in a vain effort to recant it.

To her surprise the Queen liked the idea and laughed as she moved to face her. "Yes." She hissed elegantly "Their disbelief will fuel their curiosity."

"You are as poetic as your companion." The Queen added, referring sarcastically to the Wraith.

The girl, savoring the compliment on an idea hastily procured, raised her head and registered the she Wraith's features. A tall elegant creature. Who wore a long and flowing dress that the girl secretly envied. Wishing just once in her lifetime to have been allowed to wear something similar. The girl was delighted to have come up with a response that pleased the Queen, and to be so nonchalantly elevated from servant to companion was a promotion that the girl found rare but also strange. Because as it elevated her status could also be seen as demoting that of her pryden at the same time.

Her eyes inadvertently met with the Queen's, and she quickly averted them. "But..." The Queen began "To do battle with a Wraith Queen is no easy task."

The girl quickly raised her head and threw her arms up in defence at the same time. Her eyes were wide open, with just enough time to observe not the clawed one handed slap she had expected, but a sweeping kick instead. The Queen's heavy dress fluttered and billowed in the air as she was met with a thrashing so violent that she at first didn't register it, taking in only the much more familiar sensation of having her world turn on her.

A splitting pain shot up her spine as she heard a rib crack. "Her side" she thought as she came to rest flat backed on the floor and exhaling blood in staccato. Was the single most unlucky part of her body.

The Queen towered over her, her talons extended across her chest, and spoke in a tone that warned of the price of failure. The exact text; a triviality.

At the gate she had somehow managed to stumble to, all the while pleading with the Wraith to forgive her of whatever sins he had found her guilty, he shot her a glare that demanded silence. And pulled from his bag a set of shell like body plates that joined at the top. Sliding it over her head he ratcheted it shut over her chest and abdomen.

"The symbol of your hive may protect you amongst the Wraith." he said referring to her choker, while bringing his hand down on the chest plate to test its strength. "But for ignorant humans, a more practical approach is required."

What protection!? The thought reeled in her mind as he pulled her up by the vests shoulder.

"This will protect you from their weapons as well as the Wraith stunners they are known to use. But do not believe it will leave you invincible. There is still plenty of your body that it leaves exposed."

Invincibility seemed like a bitter joke to her now, and she didn't understand how he could talk of such things while aware of the state she was in.

"Please" she pleaded once more. "I won't last"

"Do not forget your place human." he scoffed as he pushed her towards the gate "Only your own skills can save you now."

It would be a sign of weakness to look back now, and she swallowed a metallic taste as she stumbled through the gate.

She was met by something of a small army as she stepped through to the other side. There she watched in disbelief as it encircled her. Among them Ronon and the long haired woman. She took a wobbly step towards the woman that had offered her her hand on a cliff not long ago, clutching her side as if to hold in the pain, and entertained the slim hope that perhaps the woman would display a similar kindness to her now. Tears welled up in the girl's eyes as the woman all but took a step back and lowered her weapon.

Finding neither the strength nor the will to maintain herself upright she collapsed into a puddle of tears and surrendered a scream to her surroundings. A scream of a mixture of pain and disbelief that she had been holding back since the time she had her rib broken, or of the disbelief as the Wraith had rejected her. No, of before, of the helplessness she felt as they culled the village, or perhaps of even earlier, of a time she could no longer remember.


	10. Unwilling Trade

She awoke in a hospital bed to the sound of concerned chatter.

"Wait Sheppard, she's in no condition to speak with anyone. I can't let you see her."

She turned to see who was speaking, and noticed that she had been restrained. Apparently the Lanteans had found it prudent to cuff her to the bed.

"She threw a knife at me Carson! I've got a right to know who the hell she is."

"She had a rib sticking out of her chest for petes sake major"

"Well you put it back right?"

"Well yea. But.. But still."

"Then it's fine if i just talk to her."

The man they called Major Sheppard approached her bedside, and sat down backwards on a strange chair with wheels. He folded his arms over the backrest, and rested his chin. There were many questions he wanted to ask her. Like how she had managed to escape from the Wraith. Or how she had come to wear the Lieutenants garments. Why she looked so incredibly like-. But most importantly how she had come to dial the Atlantis gate.

"You put me out of service for a week." Sheppard said to the girl, who noticed the heavy bandage on his bicep, silently proud she hadn't missed.

"You got a name?" Sheppard shifted his weight and raised his chin, resting it in his right hand. The girl turned away and looked out of the window. A beautiful sight that showed part of the city, as it bathed in the morning sun. The calm ocean lapping at its pears, as golden rays of sunshine penetrated the water's surface, reflecting specks of light that twinkled like stars.

"Well then..." He said after a pause, and placed a pair of folded black cargo pants on her bed.

"Katelyn..." He suggested as he read the name tag stitched to the flap of one of the cargo pockets, and glanced at her "Where did you get them?"

"They were given to me." She replied without looking his way.

"By?..."

"A relative." She lied blatantly.

"And where did he or she get them?"

"I can't tell you." She turned back to the window.

"Because you don't want to or..."

"Because I don't know." She snapped at him, pulling on her restraints.

She hated being tied up. She had accumulated too many bad experiences regarding the practice, and it made her immediately dislike anyone who did the tying. In this case the Lanteans. Even if their reasons were understandable.

"Ok. That's enough. Out you go. She'll tear out the stitching if you continue like that."

Dr. Carson pushed the complaining Major complete with chair out of the room. An act for which the girl immediately began to like the man.

A day later, a woman came to meet her. She introduced herself as Dr. Weir and apologized for not having come to meet her when she had first arrived, claiming to have been delayed by other matters. What they were she didn't say. The woman assured her her safety if she promised not to harm any of her crew. And urged her to detail the occurrences of the past few days so that they could better understand what had happened to her. Dr. Weir Ascribed her unwillingness to talk to the shock that no doubt affected her, and decided to give her some time to collect herself.

It took a few days before she was well enough to walk around. And when the time came, she requested to be allowed to stretch her legs.  
Noting that she had been on good behaviour Dr. Weir granted the request and tasked Teyla the long haired one with providing her a tour of the city ship.

She had been given her things with the exception of the knives and she hastily discarded the hospital gown. The hard chest and back plate the Wraith had given her fit snugly, and limited her movements slightly. A limitation that she found lessened the pain in her side. It made her feel good to wear the things she called her own. Made her feel complete. Even without the boots she had discarded after having punched a hole through one of them. In her own things she felt much better than in the hospital gown, but above all they provided the security she so desperately required.

Teyla seeing the girl walk the halls of the big city barefoot, stepping on the legs of the pants that were to big for her, had used an expression she did not understand and gave her a pair of tan coloured boots. A colour that did not match the girl's outfit, but was nevertheless accepted.

The Major, in an attempt to do something he had affectionately termed 'bonding with the enemy', had invited her to a social gathering.

There by way of a flat screen they were able to follow the recordings of a great battle of some sort, in which units of brightly colored uniform waged war with one another. She found it strange, and rather silly however, for the men to be clad in armor but without even the most modest of weapons, and worse for them to be chastised openly by a bystander that resembled a raccoon- who's presence neither the players nor spectators enjoyed- whenever they applied a move that could leverage effect. She found that the men on both sides lacked coordination, skill and above all, a good sense for tactics. Equally confusing she found the behavior of spectators in the room, who screamed and cheered at the soldiers that could not hear them, and for an outcome of a battle that had already transpired.

All the while they partook in snacks and drink while the battle raged. The only behaviour she could understand. It was perhaps the combination of salty and sweet, or a side effect of the heavy medication she was under, that left her feeling nauseous.

Teyla quickly rushed her to the nearest bathroom where she heaved, against her sides vehement objections, the aggregate of poisons that her digestive system rejected.

With her bowels thoroughly purged, Teyla helped her limp back to the infirmary. To the bed that seemed to call out to her, and to an angry Carson that called out expletives to everyone else. For helping her through the ordeal, the girl thought, she would try to change her habit of constantly scowling at her.

It was only the second following day that proved fruitful. Teyla, and Rodney had taken her to see the shuttle bay. A massive structure with unimaginably high ceilings, lined with dozens of the ships she was to procure for the Queen.

Immediately she entered into negotiations for trade.

"They are not for sale!" Rodney exclaimed, quickly jumping in front of the nearest jumper as if to protect it. He had not yet gotten over the fright he had sustained in the Wraith's laboratory, and fidgeted awkwardly whenever the girl moved. "They aren't... Aren't they?" He looked to Teyla for confirmation.

"The ships are not for sale."

"You do not trade?" She asked.

"Yes we trade." Rodney retorted arrogantly.

"Then it is only a matter of price" the girl responded. Having all too personally experienced the power of money, she knew that anything could be bought or sold, provided that the party in possession of the goods was presented adequate remuneration, or a good enough reason to part with the goods for less.

"You've got nothing on you" Rodney shouted, already past annoyed.

"Gold? I have a stash off world." She lied.

The woman didn't look pleased by the offer.

"Information then? I know a great many number of worlds. And there are still plenty of questions I have not answered."

"Yes... But." The Woman began.

"A Queen then?"

Rodney jumped.

"I have killed one, and with luck her body has not yet decomposed."

Immediately she found herself in a conference room. Her audience included Dr. Weir, Rodney, Carson, Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla.  
She spun a tail about how she had been captured by the Wraith, who had subsequently gone into hibernation, but not before also forcing all their prey into hibernation pods as well. Presumably to preserve them.

She claimed to have escaped the pod with the use of a knife the Wraith had failed to find. Ronon, having once escaped in the same way, acknowledged that although difficult it was possible.

She then claimed to have devised a way to prevent the rest of the crew from awakening upon the Queens death. A method she would be willing to share in exchange for a shuttle.

No one asked how she had managed to kill the Queen. They had all observed the damage she had sustained and reasoned that it was too painful to recount play by play.

John still had a few questions and during a lul in the conversation, took the opportunity to ask about Lieutenant Katelyn's IDC, and how she had come in possession of it.

"IDC?" The girl asked, raking her brain to remember if the Wraith had made mention of it.

"Her Iris Deactivation Code." Sheppard crossed his arms.

"I bought it." She lied, still no closer to knowing what the thing was.

"Where?"

She passed him the gate address of the planet where she had first met the Wraith. She had meticulously memorized the gate addresses of all the planets in the torus trading ring as places she forbade herself from visiting, and deemed it a place as good as any to have 'bought' the device. If the Lanteans were ever to go there, perhaps they could bring with them some of their bad luck and spread it around amongst the merchants there.

"Did you buy it along with the gate address, so that you could come here." Teyla inquired, no doubt wanting to know if they had become compromised.

"No." She said remembering that the Wraith had dialled it for her "That, was an accident."

"So you mean to tell me, that you bought the device, made it a habit to use it and just out of pure coincidence dialled our gate?" Rodney interjected in disbelief.

"Precisely" The girl answered

"Somehow I find that hard to believe..." It was Dr. Weir. She had been observing the girl intently, and for once sided with Dr. Mkay.

"Don't then." The girl said arrogantly as she looked away.


	11. Bait and Switch

After much deliberation the team finally decided that regardless of what they believed, something needed to be done, action needed to be taken. The prospect of a fresh Wraith specimen, a queen at that, was too good to pass up. The simplest way to prove the validity of the girl's world was to test it, and they prepared a set of jumpers to find and investigate the cruiser the girl spoke of.

Whether or not she would receive a shuttle as compensation in case she was telling the truth had conveniently been neglected, but the girl didn't press them for any commitment.

Dr. Zalenka prepared a Hoffan bomb that was remotely detonatable. The plan was to go in two shuttles. The first to deliver and position the bomb for maximum effect in case anything went wrong, and the second to deliver Rodney and Carson to accomplish their respective tasks of, as Sheppard had put it, to do their thing.

In the jumper bay, as the teams suited up, the girl demanded her knives, refusing to accompany them unarmed.

The major procured them, and held them out to her, but pulled them away just as she was about to grab them.

"If you stab anyone on my team with them..." he said as he raised an eyebrow "I'll kill you!"

She nodded in agreement, and was allowed to have them.

The shuttle trip to the cruiser had been filled with a nervousness as members of the crew exchanged glances, with her, with each other, and with the nothingness on the other-side of the window. She hoped she had been able to accurately reproduce the gate address the Wraith had made her memorize. And would have breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the cruiser as it first appeared through the shuttle's window, if the sight of it hadn't reminded her of what she was about to do.

Once the first team had gotten into position and planted the bomb. The second team entered through the dart bay and met up with the first, before she lead the way to the Queen's chamber. The location where she had claimed to have killed her. The team followed her reluctantly deeper and deeper into the colossal craft.

When the cruiser stirred less than the plan had called for, she took a short detour, and entered the large hibernation chamber that housed the majority of the higher ranking Wraith. Rodney introduced himself to the controls.

"Look." he said "This is amazing, all the Wraith are hibernating. It's like they all just decided to go away for a while."

"Aren't they going to wake up?" She shot at him in a half whisper.

"Well I hope not!" He replied as he manipulated the controls. Moments transpired, the display flickered between views of this and views of that.

"There..." he said finally "Now the only way to wake them up is from this control station."

John motioned to the girl and she lead them further.

She paused in front of the large membrane doors that barred the entrance to the Queen's personal hibernation chamber. She hadn't had the opportunity to delay any further, and from what Rodney had said gathered that she required an entirely different plan. Why hadn't they already awakened? Why hadn't the proximity detectors worked? Where were the tripwires. And what, in the name of her constellation, had gone wrong?

After an awkwardly silent pause John had nudged her, and Teyla reprimanded him. The girl was shaking and Teyla understood, she knew how scary the Wraith could be, she knew the girl needed more time.

With a deep breath she passed her hand on the door's mechanism and entered the chamber. The team followed.

With their gun mounted lights they inspected the dimly lit inside. Ronon was the first to find what they were looking for; the Queen's hibernation pod.

"Found it." He yelled over his shoulder, and Carson appeared by his side.

"Great Scott." he exclaimed as he inspected the body. "She's not dead!"

Sheppard immediately bolted for the door. Just in time to see the girl slip through it as it slithered shut behind her. On the other side she stabbed a knife into the door controls in a way she knew would keep them closed for a while, and doubled back to the main hibernation chamber. There she thrashed wildly at the controls she had never used before. At controls she wasn't sure did anything at all.

A siren erupted from within the ship as one by one the Wraith awakened. Screams and gunfire reported from the Queen's chamber. No doubt she had awakened as well, and Shepard's team to the stark realization that they had been betrayed.

Katelyn ran down a hallway she believed could lead her to the first team's shuttle, but slid to a halt and changed direction as the shadow of a group of Wraith drones marched in her direction. Her side hadn't healed yet, and she couldn't risk an encounter that would leave her in a worse state.

A Wraith stunner hit her midriff and diffused over her chest, as she stumbled back through another corridor, back to the entrance of the Queen's chamber. With no where to turn, the sound of Wraith footsteps in her ears, and only the sliver of hope that the Queen was indeed deader than dead she yanked the knife that had kept the doors closed out of the wall before her.

She was met by a Ronon that seethed with a passionate anger and that dealt with it in the only way he knew how. Followed by the comparably angry but much more composed major who raised his weapon in her direction. The girl dropped her dagger, slid to the floor, and threw her arms over her face in something she hoped could count as an apology. Shock ran up her spine as she trembled at the sound of gunfire.

The sound of shots that hadn't however been meant for her, and that found their mark instead in the body of the Wraith drone behind her.

Teyla grabbed her by the shoulder of her vest as the others rushed passed and all but dragged her to the nearest shuttle. The rest of the team, screaming, shouting, and firing in hot pursuit. They abandoned the first shuttle in favour of the second closer one. Both teams piled into a craft designed to carry one.

Sheppard sent the ship veering into the air, spinning about face so fast that it almost sent a marine flying back out the back, as he told everyone to hold on, and claimed that the ride would be a bumpy one. Stunner blasts pelted the shuttles hull. Sparks shot from the ceiling and Carson quickly adjusted the settings of the force field that shielded the ship as he shouted to the rear for someone to "get that bloody hatch closing". Teyla relieved the distraught girl of her remaining knives and cuffed her to a strut behind the bench that ran the length of the shuttle.

The girl, not having been feeling well since the adventure began, still nauseous from the snacks and soft drinks experience the night before, and now in a state of absolute psychological mayhem at the thought of what she had done. At how she could never face the Wraith again, or at what they would do to her if they ever found her. At what could possibly have happened to make this botched plan go so horribly wrong. Deposited the remnants of her breakfast on the shoes of the soldier that stood before her.

Coarse words and exclamations filled the confines of the overcrowded shuttle as they made their way back to Atlantis, many of them directed at her. One marine called her a traitor. Another swore all manner of things, words she had never heard before but still understood. To her relief Sheppard silenced them all, "Stow it hot shot!" He had yelled. "She'll get what's coming to her soon enough."

He couldn't stop the mumbling murmurs though, not that anyone could understand them, tar and feathers were involved.

Back on Atlantis she had allot of explaining to do, and apologized profusely for having betrayed them. She told of how she had been a servant to the Wraith. And of how the occurrences of the past days had been the result of the Queens scheme to capture the Lantean team. She thanked them and expressed her gratitude for them having done away with her. She kept her story as close to skirting the truth as she wagered possible, finding it more and more difficult to dodge their probing questions.

Finally she returned the remote for the bomb into major Sheppard's hands. She had swiped it in the confusion and used it when she realized she couldn't save herself any-more.

Expressing now only her desire to return to her home world, she pleaded with them, and offered to make good on her original offer, the cruiser whose halls were by now strewn with dead Wraith, and the body of a Queen, asking now, only for her freedom in exchange. But still they were unwilling to let her go. Dr. Carson insisted that she stay, the leadership of Atlantis scrutinized every word she said, most wanted her gone, and the general feeling of distrust stung in a way she had never experienced before.

Finally they had decided. She was to be allowed to leave, but not unconditionally. For the time being she would be taken to the alpha site. There an Athosian family had agreed to take her in. And although she detested the idea she accepted the compromise at the prospect of getting off world, and packed her backpack with the remainder of her things before following her escorts to the gate. There the team stood to bid her farewell. Dr. Weir insisted that she let them know if she needed anything. Sheppard requested once more that she contact them if she remembered anything about Lieutenant Katelyn. And Teyla insisted that she harboured no ill feelings for the stunt she had pulled, while Ronon stood around not quite knowing what to say.

"Katelyn..." She said the name, tasting the syllables on the tip of her tongue, as the puddle plumed from the gate. "What was she like?"

"She was kickass." Ronon murmured, and Teyla clarified the foreign term. "She could take care of herself. She was just" the woman paused "Just unlucky."

"Well" The girl began, wondering if it would be alright to say she felt relieved that the name had a good meaning. "I... I hope I live up to the name."

She stepped through the gate, towards an unknown future, remembering all the experiences she had had, and couldn't subdue the beginnings of a coy smile that had crept up on her.

* * *

Sheppard had assembled his team immediately and departed after the girl had left Atlantis. He piloted a shuttle to clean up the mess they had started. Together with Ronon and Teyla he would provide security while Rodney yanked the core drive from the ship and eventually drove it back home. All the while Dr. Keller would record any information about the effects of the Hoffan drug on the cruiser as a whole. It was only a short trip to the cruiser, and he flew his puddle jumper absentmindedly, yet no less skillfully.

Rodney played copilot, and he turned to open his mouth as if to say something, but changed his mind half way, exhaling audibly when he found himself at odds about what to say.

"If you're going to say something just say it Rodney." Sheppard complained as he re-gripped the controls.

"Don't you think the girl was a bit..." He found it hard to place the feeling.

"I thought she was cute!" Dr. Keller filled in the gap, remembering having worked on her with Carson when the girl had first arrived. She had reluctantly joined the expedition as a substitute for Carson, the only person she felt really qualified to study the effects of the Hoffan drug. But who had at the time of their departure been delayed.

"A bit Wraithy!" Rodney corrected.

"Come on Rodney." Ronon objected "You're just upset she managed to dial the gate by accident."

This was true. Dialing a specific address by accident was a statistical improbability that only he should have been capable of accomplishing. But it didn't make her behavior appear any less Wraith-like to him.

"Well..." Teyla began as she recollected the past events. "She did have a habit of hissing at people."

Sheppard was lost in thought as he remembered the girl, of how she had stuck him with one of her knifes, come to Atlantis, barfed all over his bathroom, had finally revealed her plan, screwed up that plan, and then finally puked once more in his shuttle. When Rodney's pervasively annoying voice interrupted him.

"Aren't we there yet?"

"Son of a bitch!" He swore in a way he only occasionally did, unable and unwilling to fathom what his eyes told him.

The cruiser was not where it should have been. In fact it wasn't there at all. Instead the Hoffan bomb, intact and undetonated, floated and gyrated ever so slowly, occupying its place.

The girl had stabbed him, lied to him, tricked him, and now stolen from him. And he. He had bid her farewell and let her walk out of Atlantis without a scratch.

Instantly Sheppard used his radio, bellowing commands for the girl's immediate apprehension, only to be told after a short delay, that the girl had slipped away.


End file.
